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An Excerpt from LOVE THY NEIGHBOR
Copyright (c) AMY RUTTAN 2008
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Damn, she looks just as good as ever, David thought as he pulled into the driveway of his parents’ home in the small suburb of Deerpark, Illinois. He hadn’t been home in two years. Not since she and her husband moved in next to his parents. Unfortunately, he had already been out of the house and on his own by then—but he had been there the day she had moved in. Ms. Robins, the woman he had been fantasizing about for two years. A woman fifteen years older.
He turned off the ignition and braced his hands against the wheel, letting out a deep breath as he watched her water her lawn with the hose. She was wearing a light cotton sundress. The spray from the hose was leaving a fine mist of water on her golden tan, firm calves. Her white sundress was almost transparent and he could see the line of her panties through it. She wore a big straw hat and her chestnut curls with streaks of gray were tied back in a ponytail.
He felt his cock respond—just like it had when Mr. and Ms. Robins had moved in two years ago. He had just graduated from Harvard Law and was preparing to start as a junior in a law firm. His heart beat wildly against his chest as he thought back to that day. He had been sitting on his parents’ front stoop, waiting for his friends, when the moving truck followed by a red BMW had pulled up. Mr. Robins was a big man, an ex-football player who had never went pro. Instead he became a big-shot investor and a man who completely ignored his gorgeous wife.
His breath had been taken away when Ms. Robins got out of the car. She wore a well-tailored suit, her chestnut hair in a bun, she looked somber and severe—but deep down, something inside David stirred. He remembered going instantly hard when he had first seen her. He had stopped bouncing his basketball and tried not to stare open-mouthed as she had walked slowly up the drive behind her husband. She had slid her
sunglasses down her nose and fixed him with her emerald-green gaze, a look that he would have sworn was full of want, desire, sexual heat. As she had looked him up and down he almost came in his pants. She had laughed under her breath and slid the sunglasses back up her nose with a perfectly manicured nail and then walked into her house.
He had turned red every time he saw her that summer. Like he was some zit-faced teenager instead of the twenty-three-year-old man who had just graduated at the top of his class, the youngest to get accepted into Harvard Law and finish at an accelerated course.
She had made him feel so inadequate. He had girls his age falling at his feet and never once had he felt intimidated, out of control of his passion—but when he had sex with his girlfriend it wasn’t her face he had seen. It had been Beverly Robins, Ms. Robins.
Two years of torment, two years her face had haunted him and he had never plucked up the courage to approach her. Why would he? She was married to a very successful, influential man whereas he was fifteen years her junior. He hadn’t had enough time to make it big—he had nothing to offer her. He had left to go to a law firm in Boston and never looked back.
Well, he had tried not to look back as he scrambled to become the youngest partner at his firm. His mother and father begged him to return home for a visit but he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her again. Wanting her.
Beverly Robins distracted him and he didn’t need that kind of distraction in the corporate dog-eat-dog world. He was a veritable tiger in the courtroom. Defense attorneys quaked when David Craig was on the case. Women, he had plenty, nameless women who slaked his needs when he was horny. But try as he might, he couldn’t get Ms. Robins’ face out of his mind.
He had to lay the demon to rest. He had to go home for his younger sister’s wedding. He couldn’t avoid it any longer.
He had vowed to be strong when he showed up in Deerpark on his parents’ tree-lined street. He was David Craig, the killer, yet now the killer was sitting in his black Mercedes-Benz feeling like an awkward, horny teenager instead of a very successful twenty-five-year-old attorney.
“David, what are you doing out there?” his mother called from the doorway.
“Shit,” he cursed, banging his head against the steering wheel. He peered through the crook of his arm to see that Ms. Robins had stopped her watering. She was staring at him through the tinted windows of his car, giving him that same intense, heated, sexual stare she had given him two years ago.
There was a tap at the window, his mother’s face pressed against the glass with her hand cupped around her eyes, trying to see through the tint.
“Hello David, are you in there?”
Jesus fucking Christ, Mother. He grabbed his cell phone, flipped it open and popped open the door. Feigning that he was on a really important call.
“Yep, yep, got it.” He snapped the phone shut with such purpose.
“Sorry, honey, I didn’t know you were on a call,” his mother said.
He bent down and kissed his mother on the cheek. “It’s all right, Mom. Just work.”
As he hugged his mother he could see Ms. Robins staring at him and then she walked toward the white picket fence that separated the Robins’ yard from the Craig yard.
“Why, Louise, I believe it’s been a long time since I’ve seen David here. How have you been, David?” Ms. Robins asked huskily. Her gaze eating him up. The effect worked fast on David, he pushed his mother away a little too quickly so she wouldn’t feel what Ms. Robins’ presence was doing to him.
“I’m fine, Ms. Robins, how are you and Mr. Robins doing?”
“David,” his mother hissed out the side of her mouth.
“No, it’s all right, Louise,” Ms. Robins said, waving her hand at his mother in dismissal. “It’s no secret.”
“What?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Mr. Robins left me almost two years ago, not long after we moved in.”